the bachelor

and
one woman walked in
her breasts swinging free under her dress
cleavage in full view
commando style
the dog checked her out
multiple times
and
there's another woman next door
who shows up for coffee when
her boyfriend is away
she lingers at the door
the bachelor life
middle aged but fit,
shaved bald
a nice smile and a fat checking
account
he's in demand

Butterflies

hordes of them

a cloud

landing and flittering off

I can hear the nectar being slurped

into hungry mouths

the sun is glinting off their wings

a wind is rising 

a turbulent storm

sweeping across Africa

from the flurry of

butterfly wings

Getting to bed earlier

all of a sudden it's 10:30 p.m.
my love is in bed, he has stolen my covers,
my poem is not written,
I've only practiced flute for 5 minutes
my teeth are not brushed.
I'm getting texts from him, reminding
me that it's time for bed,
then that he's turning out the lights
and I'll have to creep into the bedroom
disturbing his gentle snoring,
or not, as he's awake in bed,
in the dark,
waiting for me.

I was tempted but resisted

I was tempted, really,

for a few moments, I put it in my cart

even thinking how easy it would be to pull a 

pre-moistened towelette from the shiny plastic 

dispenser and press the four corners into 

the neatly cut slits.

I would remove it from its plastic packaging,

the kind that must be cut with a sharp pair of scissors,

the material that goes in a landfill and never goes

away, it will be there for future generations 

to ponder at our wastefulness.

I decided against it.

I put it back on the shelf.

I went home and pulled out my decades old

mop handle, the original covers long gone.

I covered the base with an old kitchen towel,

secured it with clothespins, sprayed 

some cleaner made with baking soda

on the floor and mopped.

The floor was beautifully clean.

unable to share

Unable to share
the photo of the old man out for his morning stroll,
supporting himself on his walker, his small white poodle
accompanying him, the sun is low in the sky,
I would have shown you but the Cloud says it's unable
to share right now and to come back later,
since when does the Cloud sleep,
I'd like to know.

the perfect latte

Artistry can be found everywhere, created anywhere

by anyone at anytime

in any weather

during travels for any reason,

a  perfect latte is the perfect reason to stop,

to reflect,

to donate the same amount of money

to anyone anywhere anytime

who is in need.

Writing it up

what  does Henry's Law have to do with anything

what does a sub-monolayer look like

and what does the Martian wind look like near the surface

when it's hot and when it's cold

these are the questions worth asking when it's 10 p.m.

Colorado time, and there's an empty wine glass

and an empty martini glass on the table in front of me

I'll say what I have to say.

and when my feet slip into my wool slippers and 

my pajamas are soft against my skin,

the blankets are warm and my eyes are closed

my dreams will come to me 

I will see the wind dervishes on Mars

spinning, spinning,spinning